Here’s the thing. The air around me is in a state of disaster right now. The walls are crumbling and the floor is accumulating water and silt at a rate of an inch or two a day. A cold wind is blowing, and wild overgrowth is overtaking everything.
I have to fix this.
There is something of a watershed moment, a climactic moment building in my life right now. I don’t ask for it and I certainly don’t like it and I don’t quite know where it’s coming from or what’s driving history—my history—in this particular case, but things—my things—can’t go on like this.
I feel misguided, mistuned, and misorganized. I feel as though all of the techniques, skills, experience, and habits that I have spent a lifetime accumulating are no longer adequate to the task of together constituting my life. I’m like an animal that’s outgrown its shell and has to find another. The current one will suffocate and destroy me if I don’t make changes to my being and my lifestyle.
I’ve spent years running my life intuitively. I always knew what needed to be done, a kind of mental list, and time and details didn’t bother me very much. I kept busy and by keeping busy, at length everything always got done. In often seemingly random order, certainly, but without omissions or issues. I’d steal some sleep here, a bag of chips there, maybe lift weights for a week in May, change the motor oil in the car when it “felt old,” clean the house when it “felt dirty,” and pay my bills when they “felt due.”
Everything always worked out okay.
But now I see myself sliding. One of two things is clearly true: (1) my life and/or life dreams are more complex than they used to be, or (2) I am getting old and mentally and physically feeble and am less able to manage than I used to be. Either way, things must change.
I keep saying that, I know. But at this point the actual stuff of the change remains largely in the realm of experimentation. When everything that works for you starts to work less well for you, it takes time to find what to replace it with.
I only hope things don’t get too out of hand before I catch up to them. I have far too much to lose and far too much to gain to be feeling this approximate, unguided, experimental, or vague.
I want my old self back—the one who knew everything and got everything done.